Sucker, I was... The fucking sucker

Outcast Superstar wrote one of the posts that would be a chapter in the modern man's bible.
Fuckers and Suckers

A perfect explanation of the day.

Met this girl few months ago with her introducing herself as
"Hey, you are FastestBunny's friend. We used to hang out with him for few months, few years back."

Great. Now I know you are a fast pussy, as this guy would not hang out with anyone who would not shag on the first night. The guy left a trail of dripping cum in his one year stint in town.

No..., no..., am not judging, of course not, just observing, and putting two and two together.

Sometime later I  got her number, as she would be a good candidate for a speedy ball reliever when the need arises.

But to my mistake, I send her the nice kind of messages,
"How's the hangover"
"Blablabla"
"Blablabla"
"Blablabla"
"Cool. Perfect day for couch and movie"

...no reply...

Am not gonna be seen with this girl outside, but she has got a fine body and face, worth exploring.
Yet, I still felt I was investing too much with this message.

Since I did not invite her to a date in town, and did keep it low investment, I felt good, 
Getting rejected for a message that pretty much says, come over and fuck, is no biggie.

Until...,

The next day.  I met a friend of mine, also a fast rabbit who knew her and the FastestBunny.

He told me he saw the girl in the queue to the bar, and this happened:

"Hey girl, why don't you join our table upstairs?" (no vip, just a commoners' table)
"Sorry I cannot sleep with you. You slept with my friend" she answers.

A day later the guy was still in awe.

I knew the girl was fast. But the girl was faster than light. Sit to table = Fuck?

She was not only faster than light, she was faster than time.

Realizing I invited her to a movie, albeit in my love cave, I realized the sucker I was.

My dignity was fucked.

My dignity took a hit from being not a full on ass to this one village cycle. Interesting how the village cycle still walks around thinking she is an exquisite brand new rare golden bicycle with a diamond love receptacle?

 My dignity was fucked.

I still have not told him about the messages. My shame closed my mouth.

Nevertheless, could have been worse.

Could be the guy who commits...

Entitled limbo, smashed ego

My friends were going crazy for a Blondie, and it somehow happened that I started talking with her.
I'm guessing her to be in her late twenties, early thirties, educated, possibly a doctor.

Just was in the mood of teasing, so I was on a full frontal tease attack on the girl, basically entertaining myself.

"This is confusing" was what she uttered many times.

I just could not help myself. At some point I thought of telling her if she never met a man who does not lick her ass, but those words, it turned out,  would be uttered to the ex of a friend of mine, who would be trying to be a ball busting bitch, few days later.

So the Blondie and I have been at it for half an hour, laughing, teasing, confusion, touching, when I notice she has eyes on the Barney (how I met your mother) lookalike on the next table.

No prob, she's sitting with me.

He got up to go to toilet, now she is not sitting with me.

Without a word, or an apology showing decency, she has gotten up and is staying in the way of the guy.

When Barney walks past us, she tries to talk to him, he does not even acknowledge, and continues. She turns to us with tears growing in her eyes.

When he returns, she tries again, and against his two friends protestations, he once again continues walking.

Girl comes back all destroyed.

I am just amazed at the rudeness, and am, to my surprise, enjoying the experience I am going through. I do not make a scene or something, my friend was talking to her friend; am sitting back, smirking, watching. No need to nuke his interaction.

Apparently this 30ish gal has made a move on a guy for the first time in her life. Bet you she is no virgin though.

That's a fraction of the moves I made in the past week, and she got totally fucked up. So I guess strong and independent does not mean facing rejection and not committing suicide.

Anyways, this also puts a new light on girls' perceptions about "What's so special about a one night stand? You get dressed, drink a little, go out, and find somebody"; and fuck somebody...

Yea, because it just happen; except a guy makes it happen.

You risk rejection, you dictate the terms, I say. Don't want to call, then, man, don't call, except the one message that is meant for her positive reply about the night before.

Because a one night stand, just happens. Cause it was meant to happen, cause even with standards, it is nothing difficult, cause it does not count as it is meaningless... add infinitum..

The limbo had suffered two rejections, but it was not enough. Nope. Now the fire was on.  The guys were outside of the bar, chatting.  She went outside, and managed to get "I won't call you, but here is my number if you want".. Girl knows what that means. Friend Nobody with benefits.

See, if she had said something like, "I'm sorry, I have to talk to him", she would have gotten pointers from me that would turn her into somebody, not just a faceless hole to bust a nut in without investment. But no, strong, independent, and worthless.

Before this happened, I was asked if I am going to place X. I had said no, but just then received an invitation from place X; somebody wanted me there.

Girl comes back almost crying, and I appreciate the guy. Man with more options than me, hat tip.

I decide to go to X, the invitation is tempting, and because my friend is with the other girl, we all go to X.

I leave them at the bar to find my invitation.

Half an hour later, me and my invitation were leaving the bar when I saw the Bimbo. I thought she had left.

Bimbo, sees me, the guy she just dissed so disrespectfully, whom she watched as he was totally unfazed by her fucked up entitled cuntishness, more like amused, really amused, tell the group goodnight, with a hotter younger, almost ten years younger, tighter, fresher, no wrinkles, cute pie in tow, leaving the bar, maybe a slight smirk on his face.

Bimbos face, on the other hand... it was priceless... seeing the live version of a Scary Movie poster on a blonde bimbos face, priceless...
 

So she was in a band camp with a flute

(Reblogged because of the blogger app's scheduling problem. Original post was on May '12)

Well, no she was not.

Was my third day in the skiing village, during the Mayfest weekend. Had had some fun which I will write about later, but could not really connect with the drunk bunnies even if I was drinking myself. What I drank the whole night, these bunnies had drunk by the 14 o'clock coffee time.

Third night walking with my three totally bombed friends, me myself tipsy, she appears from the side street.

Flaming hair, tall girl, tall, low heeled- boots on long legs, a sight to behold.
We start talking, we enter a venue, and we continue talking, and we continue talking for another three hours, coupled with touching, caressing, kissing, and laughing.

She was sober. Possibly the only sober customer in the whole village that night.

We leave the place, get our jackets and exit to the close to zero degrees may night. The sun was almost rising at 4 am, we were 200 km to 66 degrees north.

We walk to her place, she does not want to let me in. I am too drunk she claims, in this frigging cold I totally sobered up I claim. I ask her if she can behave. She's not sure. Some more chat later, I am invited in.

I sobered up, but that also means I am not fueled anymore, and am tired as Hell, even if there is no hangover. Get to the bed, make myself comfortable, she puts on a nightgown, crawls close to me, puts her hand on my chest and I fall asleep after some attempts at getting more intimate.

Here I got to say there are some that would advise me to leave, or don't understand how I can accept that. I like having a girl sleep on my arms, to have her crawl over, to see her in her most innocent, to feel her warmth, and of course I like being awakened by my throbbing cock grinding all on its own  on that sweet naked butt beside me in the morning. Besides, being relaxed in the night many times has led to rampage in the morning.

In the night when turning, I smash my fist into the upper bed's boards and wake up to the sound. Her roommate had returned while we were sleeping.

In the morning I tell Flame that I might have scared her friend with my loud bang, to which she says that it is no problem, as this one time when Flame was in the upper bunk with a boy on the love cruise on the Baltic, her friend kicked the bunk a few times, and that it is sweet revenge.

I only heard "bunk" "boy" "cruise".

So, she had actually been fast. Slow with me fast with another.
That does not fare well.

Later in the morning I see her longing eyes, and hear some words that tell me that there could be something legit that has been stopping her, yet that info about a past event, coupled with our sexless night and morning, demoted the girl.

This demotion would not have happened if we had made some sweet love.

In this case, the reason could have been her period, maybe some infection, maybe some other thing, all are accepted, and respected, except: "I am not that kind of girl", "You are special" etc. These latter reasons, coupled with info on a fun night involving a "in the past I was fast" girl, or "he was not so special" guy, change things. Instead of thinking "Damn these are sweet innocent eyes" when looking at the puppy looking at you with those cute puppy eyes, that are filled with love and anticipation, you think "They eat dogs in China. Why not puppies"..


It just is.

Exception: Knowledge that there have been only a total of three fun one-nighters. First is curiosity, second is to make better the experience of the first. Third is a last try. If there is a fourth, then that means the asking price has been set. I gladly join the fun, tue free fun, no investment, no judgement.

Someone out there is telling girls that these things don't matter for men, and that girls be having fun is cherished by men. True to the extent that this fun involves said man.

Many times when "fun" does not include the man, it is because he is "special". Fun is delayed, while info is not. And the men who are put into the "special" category know very well what to do with that info: "I like you too much to shag for one night, but this other one did not mean so much so I pleasured him... " Special man should not just not get laid, but also cherish his sexless specialty.... Hamster Overdrive... Ain't happening.

It's like shooting yourself in the foot when you are the only sprinter in the olympics.

In this case, I had great night, my balls hurt like hell in the morning, I was taken care of by a Swan in the night, and I fondly remember the good time I had with Flame.

But one thing she does not anticipate is that that info will be in my head the next time we meet, which I am looking forward to. Really like this girl. Sweet, sexy, cute, and gorgeous; but info will also be there.
The lowest asking price in the past determines the current value; unless her attitude, behavior and mental quality raises it.

If she knew this, she would wish it were not so.

Blame the almighty Cosmopolitan, girls.
They lied to you.

Addendum: Girl got on the right side of my graces by her feminine, sweet, and sexy behavior few months after that night. Exceptional femininity, sweetness and sexiness and willingness to pleasure. At the levels extremely hard to find, while the "this one time in the band camp" is common occurrence. I thank this girl for being am exception. And warn your guys to look at the red flags. They mean that mines are -underneath, watch your step.

A proud dumpster diver is a threat to all

(Reblogged because of the blogger app's scheduling problem. Original post was on October '12)

Handsome man. Actually very handsome.  Black, bit over 1.90, well built, very well dressed, a style that fits, seemingly sober in club, and good posture. He must have been in his early forties, and looked like he jumped out of a movie about an educated black man, with the lead actress falling all over him.

Then it happens,

He starts talking to a mid forties full frontal wall accident. This woman may have been ok looking just five years ago, but time did her bad. Like a truck does to a fly.

Still ok, I say. We all dive now and then.

As I was thinking this, she pulls him towards the dance floor, walking a meter in front of him.
Stud looks at her ass, looks around to the people, even if no-one was looking, he points to her ass, and makes this "oooh, so fucking hot" motion.

As if that insult to mankind was not enough, he puts his hand on his forehead, palm facing out, leans back, lets out a visible but silent "Ooooouuuuu"

As he is passing me, he looks at me, with his hands, makes the motion "Dude, you see that hot piece of ass that I am getting..Fuck damn...", and waves his hands as if they just burned, "huh huh".
I don't know if he noticed my totally blank face. Possibly not.

What is the result of attractive men treating women like 9s, women who are maybe 0.9s? Ok, am exaggerating. Woman was bit below average.

Then rephrasing, what is the result of men treating unattractive women as runway models? What happens to the bit over average girls?

Will we have to pluck the attractive ones from orbit?

Dumpster divers, we all dive, it is acceptable. Just do not treat the dumpster like a gourmet meal. What the fuck are we to do when we want to eat a normal piece of chicken breast which now thinks it's a five star, no, fifty five star Michelin steak? From Kobe beef...

Of course what happens to genuine beef...

Sensai says left, the grashopper says up... Grasshopper dead, sensai was right

(Reblogged because of the blogger app's scheduling problem. Posted in April instead of May)

Now that was a long title.

So, sitting on the table on a Friday night, with a guy whose actions consist of
"I'll talk to that table"
"I'll talk to this table"

Accomplished in other areas of life, good guy, quality human, but in the female issue, totally blinded by conventional shit of wisdom.

At this point it is more apt to call him GrassSitter, instead of Hopper...

Sadly, also with a track record that fits my description of a not hopping GrassHopper.

Btw,

A day before that, when GrassSitter was present, another friend told me that he had interest in the table across us, and I told him what to do.

"Fuck man, my heart is racing" he said, but he did what I advised.

Nothing happened that night, but tonight they likely are fucking. Talk about a mid thirties guy enjoying the company of a early twenties nubile strawberry pie. (update: bam bam)

On that friday, my head was full with my talk with a man close to me, about girls and stuff, and after that hour long chat, my head was still in the mood of talking theory.

With the GrassSitter going his usual this and that, I just decided to let some theory rain.

"You know there are other points of view to this issue"
"Yea man"

"For example, that you going for the number is not the best thing"
"It is man"

"Look, there is the other point of view that.. because you go for the number, she thinks you cannot go for the sex, so she thinks you are not confident, and that backfires"
"Naaa man"

"There are other points of views, like that the women will follow your lead. You think you can get laid, she will think you can get laid"
"No man. Woman choses. They just make us think we choose"

"Yes, but you can affect that"
"Noo man. They just make us think that"

and another  two minutes of various baits to which I got to hear that GrassSitter knows best, so I resign
"Ok"
"That table there, I will go talk there"
"Ok"..

I had lost my appetite for theory. I got up. Talked to a early twenties school teacher (who I suppose later that night fucked my neighbor(update: now she is dating my neighbor)), talked to another whose number I got, and also talked to another early twenties blondie with an amazing body, who while out of town, and leaving early, I did not ask number of, but had a fun chat, and will one day see again.
GrassSitter, with his amazing open minded appetite for theory, was still sitting at the end of the night

"I will go to that table"...

Not willing to improve, dick deserves to fall off

(Reblogged because of the blogger app's scheduling problem. It sent the post to Feb '13)

 While I was looking for a title for the post an man walked in, with a babe in tow. At the end, I will get back to him.

After finding the title, I realized the title must be harsh, but it fits with the concept of giving some tough love.

A saying goes : A friend tells the painful.  (i.e. truth can be painful)

Now to the day when I threw the towel...:

Sitting on the table, I hear,
"My dick will soon fall off from not being used"

This was the third time I heard that from that man.

Since his happiness was more important to me than my friendship, I risked it:

"Dude, I'm bad with this, but HandsomeFriend is good with fashion, let him take you shopping one day"
"Naaa.. I'm good"

"Get a few good fitting shirts"
"What am I gonna do with a shirt?"

"Get some good t-shirts"
"Naaa.. I'm good"

"I'll go get some stylish glasses with you"
"Naaa.. I'm good"

"Then we go to this barber that StudFriend is going to , get you a slick haircut"
"Naaa.. I'm good"

"Come on man, these small steps and your dick will shine.. At least doors will open for you to test the waters and see if the girls are worth your time."
"Naaa.. I'm good"

"Come on man, a few trainings you do, and you're golden"
"Naaa.. I'm good"

"Some gym, some muscle, few months, and your love ; could change"
"I don't want to be big"

"We are friends, we have friends here on the table who would give you ideas to try out"
"Naaa.. I'm good"

"You complained your dick will fall off"
" "Yeaaa.. I'm good"

P.s. This is man is no mghow, man going his own way . He hopes to meet love soon.
Man is tall, small ass, wide shoulders. A tight shirt, fitting jeans, markant glasses, and a slick haircut, this man would clean it up with the hipsters and academics. Then with added muscle, his market would expand.

But no,
He is good.

Dick falls off, and he is sad about that, looking for love, but he is good.

Question: Being such a romantic,  would one not want to give the best version of him to the one he loves?
Why be ok with mediocre. Why ok with average. Why not improve? Why not distinguish yourself?
Do you not deserve it?
Does the one you will love not deserve it?

No,
What you deserve is feeling like your dick will fall off.

This event made me realize the appreciation and respect I have for people in my life who are improving themselves, putting in the work, the ones who are bettering the cards they were dealt.
I bow my head in respect. Thank you for being in my life, you all are an inspiration to me, and to the ones ready to be inspired.

Recently in the sauna I met a girl who this guy is in platonic love with. She is 20. She was there with her boyfriend. 35. Midget. But the man packed muscle. A fucking giant midget.

Yes, "I don't want to get big...". Fine.

Now to the man who walked in with the babe as I started this story.

If he had short hair and I would not shave my dick, my dick would be more handsome. But he grew his hair, distinguished himself as the rocker man, fitting jeans, black shirt, vintage jacket, a very good way of carrying himself, calm and relaxed facial expression, all in all an interesting dude. He distinguished himself, he put the work in, he got out of average. And he's got this good looking rasta blonde with him who cherishes his every touch. Easily ten years younger than him.

He did not say
"Naaa.. I'm good"

I will never say
"Naa I'm good"

You will never say,
"Naaa.. I'm good"